


too late to wait another day

by Taste_of_Suburbia



Series: Climb Up Above Your Precious Time [5]
Category: The Brothers Grimm (2005)
Genre: And Will's faith is keeping him alive, Angst, Brainwashing, Brotherly Affection, Brotherly Bonding, Captivity, Depression, Desperation, Dreamsharing, Exhaustion, Family, Fear, Gen, Guilt, Heart-to-Heart, Hurt/Comfort, Jake steps up and is very tactile, Loss of income, Mental Anguish, Mind Control, Mind Manipulation, Protectiveness, Resurrection, Sleep Deprivation, Spells & Enchantments, Temptation, Trapped, h/c_bingo, hostages
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-01-01
Updated: 2021-01-01
Packaged: 2021-03-11 00:33:27
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,040
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/28486146
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Taste_of_Suburbia/pseuds/Taste_of_Suburbia
Summary: Will reached out for the small article, the piece of Jacob’s soul he could feel for himself, one which he cursed at turns and yet couldalmostfeel revitalizing him now.“May I?”
Series: Climb Up Above Your Precious Time [5]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/2085234
Collections: Hurt/Comfort Bingo - Round 11





	too late to wait another day

**Author's Note:**

> Written for h/c_bingo for the prompt hostages.

[ _don’t worry your time, don’t hurry your mind_ ]

* * *

As one season bled into the next, so did the hastily established boundaries between the brothers, crumbling like withered bark under a blistering fire.

With their last bit of savings, they procured a meal and a room, perhaps for a few nights or perhaps entirely dependent upon the goodwill of the proprietress. Will left the details to Jake, too tired from being kept awake by said nosy, pestering brother, kept away from his queen.

The meal was more than Will had expected: two large bowls of meaty broth scattered with chunks of vegetables. With a bit of ridiculous amusement that equaled warmth, he imagined his own little brother charming the matron of the fine establishment they now sought as their temporary home, bribing her out of another bowl of soup, an extra bit of bread, one more night with promises of coin to come. This wasn’t new to them, though it had always been Will turning on his hundred-watt smile, Will’s hands coaxing pleasure out of women hardened by labor or with shielded hearts.

Now his smile and hands belonged to Jake: a smile at his brother’s resolve, his cleverness, his looming war against the unconquerable her; chilled hands that could no longer pull out buried joy or cheekily entice but were meant to be held, meant to comfort a brother that they could be warmed still, that he was not yet brother-less.

Full and heavy and restless, Will sought sleep and the reprieve her dream-scape would provide, though his brother had other ideas now that he had finally grasped what had ailed him these past weeks. When he undressed, Jake hovered, rambling about something or other, inconsequential chatter, and when he climbed into the small bed, little brother followed, sitting cross-legged on top of the bedding while Will sought the meager warmth beneath.

Trying to remedy Will’s simmering agitation, largely due to his mounting of stubbornness against she who kept his brother chained and close, Jake began purging himself of his own demons, clearly hoping they would wrestle with and dissipate Will’s own. His jittery fingers tap tap tapped against the burnt remnants of his journal, its worn hardbound covers scarcely holding together the pages inside, a labor of love and possibly even their own salvation. “I keep trying to write our ending, Will, but I just can’t seem to get it right.”

Will reached out for the small article, the piece of Jacob’s soul he could feel for himself, one which he cursed at turns and yet could _almost_ feel revitalizing him now. Just like that damned book, the brothers Grimm could be burnt and still heal, could be hurt but never broken, and if bent and bruised then never irreparable. Even so, while his touch would only be reverent toward that which Jake treasured most, his strength was fading, close to failing altogether. His resolve was tied so absolutely around Jake speaking from his heart, from that brilliant head of his. “May I?”

Jake did him one better, opening to the page himself, finding the exact spot as if by magic.

Will shut his eyes, content to listen to his brother’s low, inspired murmur. He broke off after a spell and soon thereafter Will could feel fingers carding through sticky, wayward hair. Normally one to shy away from such sensitivity, unless it was a bitterly cold night where only a fool would forgo the warmth of a sibling, Will allowed Jake his indulgence, knowing his brother needed the tactile comfort just as surely as Will needed his voice, his lovingly labored over words, his avid attention. Regardless, it was only for a few moments before Jake cleared his throat, took back his hand and continued reading, albeit leaving one hand to rest on Will’s knee.

Jake was scared too, his voice was lively and focused but there was an undercurrent of guilt-ridden grief. Will wanted to convince his brother that he hadn’t lost him yet, close yes, even though Will was strong enough to hold on, but there was little conviction in him left for anything but belief in his brother. It had started that horrible night and it would be the last thing he would ever relinquish.

“Will…,” Jake’s plea lit up the night like a scattered rush of fireworks, a beacon of hope blinking into consciousness.

“Only you can finish it, Jake. I have faith.”

_Faith enough for one more go round…_

But is that what saved us, brother, or is that what damned us?

_My sweet. new. prince._

Fingers pressed deeply into his palm, harder until he stirred, slipping far enough out of her grasp, abruptly away from the realm of her sweet dreams. “Stay with me.” Jake’s eyes had darkened, were haunted, fingers digging further until Will roused nearly fully from his stupor. It was as if Jake knew only pain would keep him close. A demanding grip on Will’s knee, strong enough for her to shriek but back off nonetheless, pouting. The tug-of-war between beloved blood brother and it seemed the devil’s mistress herself had at last begun. He had dreaded Jake’s involvement, but could now only be relieved at being able to shed some of his weight. “Don’t fall asleep. Please _stay_ , Will.”

_It doesn’t matter. I will come for you when he is most distracted, you know this._

_Of course, my queen._

Jake cut in as if he too could feed into their exchange. “We do this _together,_ Will. I’m ready now. She won’t catch me off guard again.”

_She already has, dear brother. And if I had been strong enough to protect you, you would scarce know it now._ They were words he did not dare speak aloud; he would rob his brother of nothing further.

_Poor, darling Jacob, he hasn’t realized he’s already lost._

_You’re wrong. My brother can write his way out of anything._

“Finish our story, Jake,” Will chided, motioning toward pen and ink. “She will wait, you know she is patient, and I can hold her.” Smug and calm, he watched his brother work, offering feedback and encouragement when needed, content to be his brother’s only audience.

_No force in this land can hold me._

_Watch me._


End file.
